committed

Want to know something I am not good at? Potty training. I despise it with every part of my being. I thought I was O.K. at it because Tommy wasn't all that difficult to train. He is a pleaser, so when he figured out that doing his business in the potty made everyone happy with him, he was thrilled to comply. I took credit for this attitude. Johnny is not a pleaser. He is happy to go in the potty-if I put him on it every 45 minutes or so. I am pretty sure that if I was really consistent about this for a week or so that it would click and he would be trained. But. That requires lots and lots of 100% consistency on my part and it 's just not really happening. Turns out, I am totally lazy. So. I ask your your aid. This is my very last package of pull-ups. I will be consistent because when they run out, we are moving on to underpants and if I haven't been consistent, that will be super unpleasant. If you see me at Target contemplating the pull-up options, please slap my hand and remind me of this post. We are on a deadline, people. Preschool starts in 8 weeks. Watch this space for updates.

two-for

I didn't get to run today. I was going to go right after lunch but Johnny came upstairs crying about noon and promptly spiked a fever. From that moment to this he has kept nothing down. Nothing. I spent the rest of the day giving him pedialyte a teaspoon at a time and then changing his clothes after he threw it back up. He  spent the day barely moving. I sat in the rocking chair and just held him for most of the day. Once again, I am afraid to go to bed. Afraid the fever will spike, afraid he is too dehydrated, afraid I will miss something important. That he will need me and I'll be asleep. Apparently, I am not destined for sleep this week. On the bright side Tommy only had three breathing treatments today. Tomorrow has to be better, right? Please, be better.

clearing the air

I want to go to bed. I' m tired and I have to get up early, but upstairs, Tommy is coughing. His asthma is not happy with us. It's not terribly bad right now but I can tell that sometime in the night he will need a breathing treatment. I should just wake him up now and do it but I am loathe to if there is any chance that, by some miracle, this is as bad as it will get and there will be no quality time with the nebulizer in the middle of the night. I can't decide so I sit here listening to the coughs trying to gage their frequency and severity. I just want to let him be, let him have his dreams and his peace. I guess I can listen just as well from the comfort of my bed and pajamas. Hopefully the coughs will drift towards nothing and we can all rest easy.

looking for a sale on strawberry jam

I make homemade rolls. It's how I prove I am a good mommy. Mostly to myself. They're not really all that hard and everyone is very impressed when you conveniently mention that they are made from scratch. The boys adore them, especially Johnny, who would subsist on them alone if such a thing were allowed. Last night I pulled a bag of these family favorites out of the freezer to go with our homemade chicken noodle soup (I know, rock star, right?). Tommy must have jam on his rolls. Must. He has also taken to insisting on doing  things for himself these days. Whatever, more power to him. I handed him the jar and a spoon. Moments later I glanced over at him at dinner and saw this:

If you are not sure what is in the jar, here's a close-up.

I pondered how I felt about this, I mean, it was sugar-free and there had to be some fruit in there somewhere. Besides it was now ruined for anyone else to eat. I settled with a mild lecture on germs and eating directly out of jars and left it at that. After a few minutes I sent him up to take a bath and started doing dishes while Johnny finished eating. I returned from a trip to the dishwasher to find this;

I just let him finish the jar because he doesn't listen to my lectures anyway.

tommy and the chocolate factory

Yesterday we hosted Tommy's eagerly awaited fifth birthday party at our local candy factory. Many children Tommy's age have seen and enjoy the movie about Charlie and his chocolate factory. Not Tommy. He finds that little girl who turns into a blueberry to be only slightly less disturbing than the kid who is sucked up the chocolate pipe. He wants nothing to do with any of it. However, when I mentioned, on the suggestion of a friend, that we host his party at a chocolate factory and I promised he would be dipping things in chocolate, that he would then be allowed to take home and when I promised that there were no chocolate pipes or people turning into blueberries he readily assented to the plan. We, as always, came screeching in exactly on time to be greeted by the children of my friends who are calm, cool collected and always, and I mean always, five minutes early. How I long to be like them, but that's another post. Anyhoo, the children were each presented with rice crispy treats cut into fun shapes and mounted on sticks, They then dipped those babies in chocolate, then they used pastry bags to squirt layer upon layer of colored chocolate on top of that. Yummy. We ate cake, we opened presents (every one of which Tommy declared to be exactly what he's "always wanted!"), We sent everyone home with their chocolate creations. Their mommies were, of course, delighted with their obvious candy making talents. I was delighted to see them leaving, grinning and with sticky fingers, 'cause if that isn't childhood, I don't know what is.

help a girl out?

On September 26 I am running Wichita's Race for the Cure. You may remember my freak out last year when they found and removed the first of the three lumps I've had removed since then. They were nothing. Every single one of them. I still can't stop thinking about all the women who waited for the same test results and got a different answer and my heart breaks for them. My sister-in-law's sister just finished chemo. I have been following her story all along and sending my good will her way, but I want to do more. So. I am running this race for Shauna and in her honor I have set the lofty goal of raising $500 (and oh, how I need your help to do it!) for the Susan G. Komen Foundation. Will you help? Donate to the cause here.

***Please feel free to link to this post from your own highly popular blog if you feel so inclined.

interview with the birthday boy

The following is an interview conducted with subject, Tommy Daniels, on the occasion of his fifth birthday. His answers are reproduced verbatim.

Q. How do you like being five?

A. Um, so I can go to the playground?

I think he misunderstood the question.

Q. What's the best part about being five?

A. Oh! The best part? Opening presents is the best part!

Obviously.

Q. Now that you are five what are some things that are really good at?

A. I like, what I can do is, I can break a stoplight. Also. I am good at fighting ninjas. And building robots, I'm good at that.

Not sure about the stoplight thing, but I totally vouch for his ninja fighting abilities.

Q. What do you want to be when you grow up?

A. A policeman, because I'd really like to be a policeman.

This is because he thinks they get to carry magnifying glasses.

Q. What's you favorite part of school?

A. My favorite part is when I showed 'em all my stuff.

The 'Me' bag he got to bring because it was his birthday.

Q. What's your favorite thing to do?

A. Wrestle with my friends and um, get rescue heroes.

More presents.

Q. What would you like to do before your next birthday.

A. Um, make trains and oh, I just don't know. I aren't telling you, that's all. I don't want to do this anymore, just write all the stuff Johnny likes to do.

Hmm, he seems to be losing patience.

Q. O.K. just one more question, did you have a good day?

A. Yup, it was the bestest day ever.

Oh good, because you make my heart sing.

the first of many, i fear

I used to be so patient. So patient. At least I thought so. I think that was because Tommy was a logical, desperately obedient child. The terrible twos didn't happen at my house. I secretly believed that somehow I had done something right, and this was my parenting reward. I hardly ever have to send Tommy to time-out because just counting backwards puts him into a panicky state of acquiescence. While my little ones look as though they were cut from the same cookie cutter, apparently the ingredients were completely different. Johnny has been two for exactly one week. How does he even know he's two? Sure we ate cake and gave him presents but he does not have a clear enough understanding of social mores to interpret anything from that. He probably just thought it was an extra great day. Yet since that day he has been a perfect demonstration of the classic case of terrible two's. Yesterday we had five, count 'em five temper tantrums. The poor child isn't really talking yet but boy does he know what he wants and obviously my guessing skills are not up to par. Know what else? He thinks it's funny to be naughty. Hysterically funny. If you ask him to go someplace specific, he runs in the other direction and hides. Luckily, of course, laughing the entire way. He sneaks out of the house and runs away to the neighbors. He empties the refrigerate at two in the morning because we don't feed him enough during the day. He dumps his drawers and and make snow angels in the piles of diapers he pulls out of the cabinets. He is positive that his little friend Zack (age 1) wishes to be pushed and tackled often and repeatedly. He makes a point of never returning home with both shoes. While he does these things he grins and giggles in a terribly charming manner and sits patiently in time-out planning his next infraction. Today I snapped at him, several times. He is so adorable, but so naughty! I want to be firm and patient but this kid is driving me to distraction. I am starting to wonder if, perhaps, this is only the beginning with this little dear and I just don't think I'm up for it. They don't give out anti-depressants in that big of a dose. They're totally stingy like that.

happy birthday, dear one

Yesterday morning I found this child literally swinging from the chandelier in the kitchen. For the third time. Who even knew that this was a real thing. Isn't it just an expression? Yesterday he turned 2. How did that happen?All of the sudden he is a little boy, not a baby. He is not much like his older brother at this age. Tommy, while curious and adventurous, was inherently cautious. This one? Not so much. I am currently in the process of child-proofing my upper cabinets because height does not seem to be any sort of a deterrent. He is naughty but I can hardly stand to discipline to the adorable little thing. He thinks it's hilarious to run away, hide or to repeat what ever he was just chastised for. Should you choose to sit on the floor anywhere in his vicinity, he is sure that you want to wrestle and will tackle appropriately. He wants to have his trucks books read over and over and he simply can't be expected to go to bed without his blankie. He grins and laughs at everything. He is a champion snuggler. He is my delight. Oh dear, he just came into the kitchen, he is applying mascara to his nose with my favorite Diorshow. Please excuse me.

betrothed

Tommy is engaged to Paige Williams. Paige of the big, brown eyes and honey-colored hair. The wedding date has yet to be set. They spent playgroup huddled together in the playhouse talking about"married things". When we left, Paige sent us off with Tommy's very first love letter. I am not ready for this. I hadn't really thought about him loving women ( or girls in this case) other than me. I like being his dearest love. Many of my friends are sending their little ones off to kindergarten and we have been talking about how this growing up thing is a very slippery slope. Today they're five and then they are kissing girls (eww!) and next thing you know they are leaving home. No, no, no! Slow down, I'm not ready to let go.

pretty boys

While we were in Utah my dear friend Emilie, whom I have known since I was in college, took pictures of the three of us. They are lovely, if I do say so myself. If you are in Utah, you should call her. Check out more of her stuff here.

nice job, little camper

My kid climbed this mountain on Friday to see the cave. It is only a mile and a half but the elevation rises over 1000 feet. Not easy even for a pretty healthy adult. I'm all puffed up with pride. He is nonchalant.

can't get enough

of dancing in the kitchen.

i thought you wouldn't believe me

...without photographic proof. (yup, he's taken to sleeping in drawers now)

in a huff

I can't find my cell phone. This makes me exceedingly angry. I am trying my darnedest not to direct my anger at my children because it's probably not their fault. I know it is in the house somewhere because I was texting this morning but at this point I have looked everywhere (obviously not everywhere or I would have found it by now, but you get the idea). I am frankly sort of embarrassed by how much this bothers me. It's probably best that most of my problems are the small, irritating kind because even those seem to be driving me over the edge.

* Found at 11:42 AM by Tommy in a toy box in which I myself had looked three times. It was covered in sticky Johnny fingerprints thus identifying the culprit. Tommy recieved a cookie for his heroic feat.

the reason the basement is a mess

Today I am a slug- there is much to be done around this place and I am putzing around on the internet. But not anymore. Any minute now I am going to get out of my favorite rocking chair and transform into a whirlwind of activity. Any minute now...

the continuing saga

I'm telling you, this kid cracks me up. As we went through the now nightly. "Stay in your bed" drama I went into Johnny's room only to find him across the room looking out the window. He jumped about a mile high upon hearing me direct him to get his little petootie back in bed. He considered for a moment and then slipped behind the drapes and held very still. Obviously one cannot be seen while hiding behind drapes as long as one doesn't move an inch. He honestly seemed a little surprised when I pulled back the curtain and once again ordered him to bed. He had no idea that I had magic powers.